The Art Of Peace
by Classless
Summary: Iroh decides it's time to retire. Fire Lord Zuko is forced to find a second in command, leading him to call on an old friend's loyalty. Zutara, Maiko
1. Prologue

The Art of Peace

Prologue

"It is time for me to retire."

The council members stirred uneasily at Iroh's frank announcement. Zuko stared straight ahead. He'd been expecting this moment, but he hadn't fully come to terms with it either. Mai sat by his side, uninterested. She showed up to these meetings to show her loyalty to Zuko, not only as a representative from her powerful family, but as his fiancé it was her duty.

The long table was surrounded by men, mostly old men, though Count Yi was only in his forties. They were the Fire Lord's council, the Fire Lord's most trusted advisors. And they were all as conniving and power hungry as Ozai had been, only they happened to lack the singularity of vision the former Fire Lord did. They were scavengers; picking at whatever scraps the royalty threw to them.

"But Iroh, you cannot!" Fire Sage San exclaimed, to a chorus of many nods and grunts of affirmations. His red bishop's hat almost flew off with the fierceness of his outburst.

Iroh shook his head. "I am old. I don't have the strength or the will to play these games of intrigue anymore. It is time I leave that to my nephew."

"But," San sputtered, "The Fire Lord is just now twenty! He cannot rule a nation! No offense, sire."

Zuko stood, commanding the room's attention. The heavy robes of the Fire Lord sat easily on his muscular frame, but he kept his hair just long enough to put into a top knot. He inclined his head briefly, acknowledging the Fire Sage. "I realize I am young, but that is why I have you here to advise me. I think we should all wish my uncle well on his path, wherever it may take him."

The room was silent, no one wishing to defy the Fire Lord outright. Mai smirked to herself. Watching people being put in their place was always amusing.

San sunk back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The other council members were murmuring to each other, disconcerted. His fingers drummed against the thick red robe as he searched for some political advantage in this situation. Certainly, with Iroh giving up his coveted spot as Chancellor, many would be vying for the position.

"But sire," San's nasal tones cut through the chatter, "While you know you have the council's unconditional support, many people are still unconvinced of your readiness to rule. You must have a Chancellor."

Eyes narrowed, Zuko contemplated. There had been one confirmed assassination attempt already. There was still debate as to whether the second time was just bad fish. He did need someone to watch his back, and go to the meetings he couldn't attend. And enforce his rule throughout the Fire Nation. His uncle had been invaluable in the past three years.

Iroh nodded sagely. "This is good advice, my nephew. The fire nation needs a firm and steady hand to guide it. There are still many supporters of Ozai who are just waiting for the first sign of weakness."

Zuko may have claimed the throne, but the hearts of the people were still divided. Much of the nobility was still in favor of war, as they'd invested heavily in arms manufacture, including Mai's family.

Sensing a great political opportunity, General Liu felt compelled to speak up. "I have the support of the army at my back, my Lord. If something were to befall you, Agni forbid, I would be able to impose peace among the people."

"Ah," San countered, "but it is the Sages that the people turn to in times of crisis."

Count Yi sniffed. "Trade is the lifeblood of a nation. Without commerce, the armies and the temples would wither and die."

Mai privately agreed with the count, but held her tongue. Long ago, she'd learned it was best not to say too much to powerful people. All the poison darts in the world can't undo a poorly chosen word.

"Enough," Zuko said, silencing the bickering. "I see the necessity of a second. Aside from my noble uncle, there is only one person I trust enough with the safety of my people."

Her back visibly straightened, and she unconsciously smoothed her skirt. Carefully composing her acceptance speech in her mind, Mai allowed a small smile to slip onto her lips.

Zuko waved his hand, and a servant bowed deeply to him.

"Please summon a messenger hawk and a pen and ink," he said, lost in thought. "I need to send a letter South."

Author's Note:

I hate disclaimers, since common sense dictates that I am making no money off of this, since it's a free website for both posting and reading.

I update fairly infrequently, I'm sorry, but I do have at least one more chapter written. Please review, all comments and criticisms welcomed 

Carolyn


	2. Detente

The Art of Peace

Chapter 1: Détente

"That must have been some letter," Iroh murmured, watching the slim girl approach. More woman than girl, now, he mused silently.

As usual, Zuko ignored him. Mai said nothing, fanning herself slowly. The oppressive heat of summer hadn't yet faded, and here she was, being forced into the midday sun to officially welcome the water bender to the fire nation.

It was the Fire Lord's job to greet the Chancellor with a grand speech about loyalty and bravery and trust. And in the back of his mind, Zuko knew that, just as he knew he was Fire Lord now, and not a seventeen year old boy finding his way in the world. But when her blue eyes met his, no words came out.

"Zuko, it's good to see you." She smiled and the tension melted away.

"You too, Katara."

Mai's fan snapped shut as the party moved indoors. Iroh led Katara around, showing her the marvels of the palace.

The deep red marble of the walls had seemed so ominous when she was younger. But invading a country and helping to rule the country were two very different things. Zuko and Mai walked behind her and Iroh by a few paces, and Katara was glad that despite the heat, she had left her hair down.

With Hakoda and the other warriors returned to the South Pole, Katara had found herself using her water bending for little more than advanced igloo construction. She had been without parental supervision for an entire year; trusting her friends and her instincts for survival. She had played an instrumental role in stopping a one hundred year long war.

But in the South Pole, she was just Katara, daughter of Hakoda, recently of marrying age. Aang had left her to do his duty, restoring balance to the world and searching for the descendants of air benders, which hurt, but she understood. He was the Avatar, and she was just another bump along his road of spiritual enlightenment.

Sokka had left for Kyoshi as soon as he could. Suki wanted to marry him, and she was happy for them. Just before she'd boarded the ship to the fire nation, she heard Sokka was going to be a dad. If Zuko's letter hadn't arrived, she would have gone to Kyoshi Island, if only to get away from her own father.

Hakoda had objected, of course. She was water nation. They wouldn't accept her, he argued. After all, she was a woman now. She had a responsibility to her tribe.

"Over here is a tapestry that chronicles the birth of the fire nation. See there is the great dragon, spouting fire into the sea, and there…"

"Uncle, our guest is probably tired from her journey." Zuko cut him off gently.

"Forgive my rambling, Katara. I forget my manners in the presence of such charming company," Iroh flirted.

Katara hugged the old man tightly. "I missed you, you big tease."

Iroh's belly laugh filled the great hall. Mai raised a questioning eyebrow. He grinned and shook his head. "If I were thirty years younger…"

"Only thirty?" Zuko asked.

He laughed again. The Fire Nation was in good hands. He could retire to Ba Sing Se with a peaceful heart.

-----

The bed was comfortable, but she just couldn't sleep. The palace was too empty and quiet. And hot. She shared her igloo in the South with Gran-Gran and her dad and Sokka and Suki when they visited and sometimes Pakku, even.

Here, a servant brought her some water to wash with, turned down the silk coverlet, and arranged the drapes to her liking. Then they left.

Katara slipped a light robe on over her night clothes. It wasn't as oppressively hot as it had been during the day. A breeze fluttered her hem as she walked. In the dim moonlight, it was hard to tell if the figures in the hall were guards or suits of armor. Either way, it was unsettling.

Her feet took her to the only familiar place in the fire nation. The courtyard was etched into her memory. They had planted new trees, but as Katara trailed her hand along the wall of the palace, she felt some red paint flake off the building's scorch mark.

The metal grate groaned as she walked carefully along its length. The water flowed silently below her, steadying her as her mind reenacted the last real battle she'd fought. She bent to one knee, and the water rose to greet her.

Pulling a thin strand from the stream, she straightened. Eyes closed, Katara began the complex steps of an advanced water bending form. The water whirled around her body as her stances flowed effortlessly one into the other, an elaborate and deadly dance.

The water slithered over her shoulder and behind her head. With a flick of a finger, it became an icicle and shot past a tall man intruding on her memories. The spear embedded itself into the pillar, inches away from Zuko's ear.

"You should know better than to sneak up on a water bender in the middle of the night."

"After all these years, I thought your aim would be better." He reached up, melting the ice with his hand.

"Who's saying it's not?"

Zuko smirked, continuing to watch her. She'd pulled another tendril of water from the stream and had sunk back into a fighting stance. He'd watched her run through forms before, at the Western Air temple, but back then she was a girl. Her crane stance, once weak, was now flawless, and while he had only met one other water bending master, he was willing to bet that Katara was more than his equal now.

She bowed at the end of her form, a traditional warrior's bow, and smiled mischievously at the young Fire Lord. "Tell me, what have you been up to these last few years?"

Her smile was infectious and a grin tugged at the corner of Zuko's mouth. "The usual. Boring meetings. Fancy parties. Ruling a nation."

"So no time to fire bend, then."

"I have grown stronger, too." The way she moved the water around her body was hypnotic. It was like a snake, with a mind of its own, curling around her arms and waist.

"Think you could take me?"

Zuko's grin widened. "I wouldn't want to wake anyone."

"Aw, is the big bad Fire Lord scared to get wet?" Katara teased, juggling her water bubble.

He shrugged off his robe. The silk didn't make a sound as it fell; there was only the crunch of the gravel under bare feet as the two bending masters moved into the courtyard. The pale half moon didn't give them much light, but they didn't need it.

Ten feet apart, they breathed in unison, testing each other's qi.

Shifting her weight to her back leg, Katara struck. The water punched out, like two giant arms. Zuko sliced through them easily with two short bursts of fire. He countered quickly, whipping out with a tendril of flame.

They fought like old enemies; when Katara sunk into her octopus stance, Zuko easily broke it with a ring of fire. When he lashed out with his flaming spin kick, she brushed it off with a swiftly raised wall of ice.

The servants, and even some of the nobles, rushed to see what the commotion was. Iroh watched from the sidelines. When the palace guards attempted to stampede the courtyard, he raised his hand to stop them.

"My nephew is in no danger. At least not from her," he told them, gold eyes twinkling.

Mai peered from a doorway, fingering one of her many daggers, dour expression on her pretty face. Her personal body guard stood beside her, silently watching the duel.

"Bending is so mundane, don't you think?" she asked, not expecting a reply. When she didn't get one, she spun on her heel and headed back to her rooms.

The warriors broke apart, panting.

"You ready to give up yet?" she asked, flicking the hair out of her eyes.

Smirking, Zuko simply raised his guard. "When are you going to show me something new, Water Tribe?"

Dividing her water whip into two, Katara grasped the base of it like the double scimitars he favored. With a whoop that was almost joyous, she flew at him, water swords raised. Zuko formed his flames into dual daggers, just like he had when he was young. This attack was more physical; each time he would rend her swords, they would reform as she pulled the steam from the air. Her blades got within a hair's breadth of scarring his face a second time, but she had to stumble back from having her arm burned beyond repair.

The swords melted into an icy gauntlet, spiked and dangerous. Her blue eyes were inscrutable as Zuko readied himself. They clashed again, his flaming dagger glancing off the gauntlet. She ducked under his reach, her water splashing to the ground. Zuko spun, trying to catch her off guard; instead, he flipped gracelessly onto his back. The ground underneath him had turned to ice. In the blink of an eye, she pounced.

Knees to his chest, Katara sat proudly atop her victim. A bead of sweat dripped off her forehead, onto his. Neither of them moved, just catching their breath.

Iroh cleared his throat and the moment was broken. Zuko glared at him, and the crowd scattered, most heading back to their beds. The gravel crunched as the older gentleman approached the Fire Lord and his new Chancellor.

"Katara, that was quite impressive," Iroh said, lending her his hand. "Where did you learn it?"

"Foggy Swamp Style, it's called. 'Conserve your energy. Let your opponent defeat himself'," she answered, not able to look him in the eye.

Zuko propped himself up on one of his elbows. "When did you go to the swamps?"

"About a year ago." The answer hid more than it revealed, but Zuko didn't ask.

His back twinged as got to his feet. It'd been far too long since he was challenged; he needed to train more. Katara held back a smile at her Lord's grimace.

"I'm sorry Fire Nation, did you need some assistance back to your chambers? You know, because I beat you so soundly?"

"Next time, we duel at noon."

Author's Note:

Still disclaimed.

I have another chapter mostly written already. Please review.

Carolyn


	3. Assimilation

The Art of Peace

Chapter 2: Assimilation

Being Chancellor wasn't exactly what Katara had expected. She knew, of course, that there would be many boring meetings in her future. But she hadn't realized how many, and just how dreadfully boring they would be. The robes of her office were stifling in the heat, and most days she wished she could simply jump in the pond and be done with all the politicking.

But Zuko needed her here, listening to Esquire Pei-Yen prattle on about some minute point of Fire Nation law that would aid her in her advisory position to the Fire Lord. Pei-Yen was one of the few politicians who didn't resent her presence in the palace. Often, she would see Fire Sage San shaking his head at her when he didn't think she was looking. At first, General Liu openly contested her appointment, but Zuko was firm.

Katara was to stay, as long as she was competent, and her loyalty to the Fire Nation unquestionable.

They argued for hours about her loyalties. She was Water Tribe after all, how could she be loyal to the Fire Nation? Zuko's only reply was that she was unwavering in her loyalty to him, and wasn't he the penultimate representation of the Fire Nation?

Now the wise ones only grumbled behind his back.

When she wasn't being lectured about manners, or history, or law, Katara went into the city. She left the robes, and the guards, and the marks of her office behind.

She walked between the stalls of fruits and cabbages and trinkets. She talked to merchants, and their wives, and their children. She walked among the people, and healed what she could with her own hands. Other things—the price of rice, the state of the roads, the homelessness, the depression of a land without a purpose—she brought to Zuko, and they stayed up many nights discussing solutions.

Often she would hear the snap of a quickly closed fan as Mai passed her in the halls. Katara wanted to reach out to her, heal what she could, but the older girl would never let her get that close.

So she brought it to Zuko, and they stayed up one night discussing solutions.

---

Her ceremony of citizenship was hot. They had it outside, of course, so that Agni could witness her oaths of fealty. Now, officially, in front of the gods, in front of the people, and the backstabbing council, Zuko was her Lord.

The grumblings remained, as ritual generally means nothing to those who are mortal. Katara carefully checked her food every morning, and trusted no one save Zuko, Mai, and Iroh, now gone to Ba Sing Se.

Slowly, slowly, they grew to love her in the markets. She could explain taxes patiently, and without condescension. She always helped buy food for those who couldn't afford it without their soldier's pay. She wasn't afraid to work with them, and not above them, and so grudgingly, respect was earned.

---

Mai's fans were almost as sharp as Suki's for how deep they cut him. He loved her. But she wanted to be first in his heart, and that would just never be.

"To be a good ruler, Zuko, you must love your country, more purely and truly than any other." Ozai's proverb was true, though he had taken his patriotism to mean the destruction of all else.

More purely and more truly, he devoted himself to the rebuilding of his nation. Every time he would disappear into his office, she would flutter her fan, hiding her mouth.

When he would drag himself, drained, and tired, and needing some companionship to her bed some nights, he could almost hear the soft rustle of painted paper as she pulled back the sheets.

Zuko wielded all of the power of the crown.

Mai wielded her fans.

---

The duels became legendary.

As the months grew on, it wasn't unusual for Katara's maidservant to wake her in the early hours of the morning, exercise robes all ready laid out.

The duels after cabinet meetings were almost always sure to draw a crowd.

There were times he beat her fair and square. There were times that it came to a draw. There were times she would have him lying in the dirt. But she let him win, always. He had to save face. And while Zuko felt ashamed of their plan, he couldn't let his people, and his enemies, see him as weak. He was the Fire Lord, and there were certain traditions of near godhood that even he couldn't break.

But Katara didn't mind, not as long as the fight was good. And if she had to miss a step, or raise a wave too slowly to help save the nation's honor, she understood.

It wasn't about them; it never had been.

Author's Note:

Still disclaimed.

Please review, because I love it 

Carolyn


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